Fall Out
by Poppin'Freshx
Summary: The Glee Club become victims in a hostage situation at McKinley High but what seemed like an accidental situation turns out to be more than just that when they realize that the only person who can save them is Santana Lopez. Post 3x08
1. Prologue

**Summary:** Everything goes wrong for the Glee Club members as they become victims in a hostage situation at McKinley High but what seemed like an accidental situation turns out to be more than just that when they realize that the only person who can get them out alive is a certain Santana Lopez. But is Santana willing to save them all when her own life is at stake? Santana-centric. Brittana.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but my creative juices. *bow*

**A/N:** New story that popped into my head I just had to write it. :) Here's the first part. Enjoy! Takes place after "Hold On To Sixteen". Episode 3x08.

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**Prologue**

As I close my eyes, I can feel the cold steel of the gun against my forehead, digging into my skin as if it were eager to release the metal bullet it held back and just let it rip into my head with its trail of destruction as proof of its power. I've never liked guns and it was ironic that I had one pressed to my head at the moment. If only I could muster a laugh, I would have done so bitterly but my throat has shut down on me. My ears are sensitive to sound but all I can hear is my own ragged breathing as I inhale and exhale, my heart beating wildly against my chest. My hands are numb and my body is cold. I taste the blood in my mouth, a swirling coppery flavor that cakes the corner of my lips.

I never thought I'd die this way. I never thought I'd die so young.

I was Santana Lopez and I was going to live my life to the fullest after high school. I was going to get into the university of my choice, I was going to get a stable job, I was going to propose to Brittany and marry her, I was going to have kids with her and I was going to live until I had no more strength in me. I was going to be happy.

But I guess I was wrong. The moment he pressed that gun to my head, I knew I was a goner.

I _am_ going to die this way and I _am_ going to die young.

/

I let my thoughts drift to Brittany.

My beautiful, innocent Brittany; My best friend, the love of my life and perhaps the _only_ love of my life.

I think about her sparkling blue eyes and the way they light up every time she sees me, the smile that is always plastered on her radiant and angelic face. I think about her quirky personality and the joy she brings to everyone with her lovable self. I think about the joy she brings me; the love, the hope.

Then I begin to imagine the worse.

I imagine her blue eyes losing the sparkle and electricity and turning a dull, lifeless blue.

I imagine that radiant smile disappearing and being replaced by a stoic face that is emotionless and stone cold.

I imagine her losing her quirky personality, giving way to someone who is nothing but a shell of emptiness.

I imagine no joy.

No love.

No hope.

And my heart breaks into two at the thought.

/

I'm only seventeen and I am already playing with Death.

Or was Death playing with me?

I'm young, too young but Death does not care for age. Death does not care for gender or ethnicity. Death takes who he wants and right now, Death wants me.

But I am not ready for Death. Then again, you're never ready for Death.

/

You know how they say that before you die, your whole life flits before your very own eyes like a film that's being played for you? Yeah, I wasn't getting any of that.

My mind is blank. There's nothing to see.

Then again, maybe that is how my life is; empty.

Suddenly, there's a burst of emotions in me; I'm hurt, I'm angry, I'm in pain, I'm sad, I'm devastated. How do you live seventeen years of your life like that? How did I live my life so emptily?

Something is clawing at my insides. It's been there for awhile but it's only made its presence known now.

The epiphany comes and it's tragic.

The realizations crash down on me and suddenly, the chaotic mess I had been thrown into suddenly makes perfect sense.

/

I open my eyes. I feel like I've been lost in thought for days but I know it's only been a few seconds. The gun is still pressed against my head but this is not my main concern anymore.

I look up into the eyes of my killer and I see him waver slightly. I'm staring straight into Death's eyes.

I will myself to open my mouth and the words spill out of me like it was something natural. I'm as calm as I can be but my voice is low, full of regret.

"Can I tell you a secret?" I ask him.

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**A/N: **Thank you for reading. :) I appreciate reviews. :D As for those who read "Run", I'll be updating that in a few hours with a good explanation as to why I wasn't able to upload the next chapter yet. :3

And oh! Naya Rivera KILLED "If I Can't Have You", IMO.

Have a nice day, everyone!


	2. Are You Lost?

**Disclaimer:** Just playing in Ryan Murphy's sandbox.

A/N: Short chapter. I apologize for the mistakes. I promise the next chapters will be longer. :) Enjoy!

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**"Are You Lost?"**

The man was dressed in a black sweatshirt and faded jeans. He was tall and muscular and the hood of his sweatshirt was up, covering his face in a shadow of mystery. He walked slowly but surely as he navigated the empty halls of McKinley High, his sneakers tapping softly against the tiled floor. In one hand, he held a picture, the edges of the photo worn out from having been looked at and held too many times. In the other hand, he held a black handgun that was small, compact but deadly. He brought the gun up to his chest in a defensive manner and pocketed the photo. He was here for a reason and the faster he accomplished what he had to do, the better.

The sound of footsteps coming from behind him made him halt in his tracks. He cocked his head to the side, his hand gripping the gun tight as the footsteps approached. They stopped a few feet away from him.

"Excuse me Sir, are you lost?" Came a good natured voice. It was deep and he assumed it was a man.

He clenched his jaw, the question burning a hole in his heart. He turned around slowly and took a good look at the man.

Jeans. A sweater vest. A long sleeved polo. A tie. Curly brown tufts of hair. A pleasant face and a helpful demeanor. A teacher.

He raised his gun and cocked it at the teacher whose eyes suddenly widened at the sight of the handgun pointed at him, making him stagger back slightly as he paled visibly.

"I'm very lost." The man with the gun answered quietly, voice full of emotion. Without a second thought, he pulled the trigger.

There was a crack in the air as the bullet hit the teacher and a thud as he crumpled to the floor, blood seeping through his sweater vest.

He approached his fallen victim and stared down at him as the man on the floor looked back helplessly, seemingly shocked and in pain. Blood was seeping through his clothes.

"I'm sorry. You got in the way." He told him calmly.

The creak of a door caught his attention and his head snapped up to look down the hallway just as a teenage boy with dark brown hair stepped out to see what the commotion was.

The man pointed the gun at the kid without hesitation. The kid froze in his spot, bewildered, scared and confused.

"Blaine!" The teacher managed to choke out despite his injury, desperation in his voice. "Blaine! Move!"

But before Blaine could comprehend what had been shouted out at him, the stranger was suddenly next to him, a hand gripping Blaine's arm tightly, the gun pressed to the small of his back.

"Get in."

All Blaine could do was stumble back into the choir room with the man in tow.

/

Santana jumped out of her car and ran up the stairs that led to McKinley High as fast as she could. She was running late for Glee and she knew that some of the members wouldn't be happy with her tardiness. Not that she really cared.

The Latina couldn't help but roll her eyes at the thought of Rachel's disapproving look when she'd enter the room but that was the least of her worries. She was more worried about how Brittany would react when she'd see her. Santana had skipped her last class without telling Brittany and she knew that her girlfriend disapproved of her cutting classes but it wasn't like Santana had done it on purpose. Well, of course she had, but her reason _was_ valid.

Santana smiled to herself, as she jogged down the halls of McKinley High, at the thought of her girlfriend pouting in the choir room because of her absence. It would take all her willpower not to swoop Brittany into a hug and shower her with kisses on the spot once she'd catch a glimpse of that endearing pout that always made Santana fall over and melt at Brittany's feet.

With a small chuckle to herself, Santana slowed down to a walk as she took a left, now nearing the choir room but it only took her another three seconds of walking down the hall before she noticed a man slumped up against the lockers. Santana frowned, suddenly walking with caution. The scene seemed out of place. As she got closer, her eyes widened when she saw a trail of blood on the floor. She was suddenly filled with a sense of foreboding. She took a closer look at the man and sudden realization hit her; The man slumped against the locker weakly was Mr. Schue.

In an instant, Santana was kneeling at his side, panicking. His sweater vest was tainted with a crimson red and Santana blanched. It was _blood_. The blood on the floor was his blood. She felt her head reel and she resisted the urge to vomit.

She was having trouble comprehending what was going on. One minute, she was excited to see her girlfriend then the next, she was full of dread at the sight in front of her.

"Mr. Schue?" Santana whispered, unsure of herself, all traces of her bitchiness gone. "Mr. Schue."

Will Schuester's eyes fluttered open and he smiled weakly at Santana who let out a sigh of relief. "Santana." He managed to choke out. "Santana, you're okay…" He grabbed her hand. "You're okay."

Santana gave his hand a small squeeze. "Mr. Schue… You're bleeding." She chanced a glance at his wounded shoulder; It was a gunshot wound. Without hesitation, Santana sprang into action, swiftly taking off her red and white Cheerio jacket. She knew her first aid and she knew that the first thing to do in situations like these was to control the bleeding. She carefully folded her jacket. "I'm going to apply pressure so that I can control the bleeding okay, Mr. S? This might hurt a bit."

Will nodded his approval and let out a grunt of pain as Santana slowly applied pressure to his wounded shoulder. "What happened?" She asked in a tone that was not her own.

"He shot me, Santana." Will began to explain as Santana continued to apply pressure. "He just… He… Didn't even hesitate."

Santana swallowed hard but remained calm, her voice eerily gentle. "Who?"

"The… The man." Mr. Schue let out a cough and he felt pain radiate from the gunshot wound. He winced. "I… I've never seen him before… He just shot me."

Santana felt her throat constrict. "Where is he?" She breathed out, praying to the powers that be that the man had ran off.

There was a flicker of fear in Will's eyes as he confirmed Santana's worst nightmare. "He's… He's with _them_. He put a gun to Blaine's head and… He's taken them hostage."

Santana faltered and she felt herself go weak. Had she not already been kneeling, she was sure she would have fallen over and fainted. Her mind was in a haze as dread overcame her, hitting her like a cargo truck losing control on the highway.

There was only one thing she could comprehend.

The Glee kids were in danger.

_Brittany was in danger._

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**A/N:** It's a start. :) Next chapter, we'll have the rest of the New Directions and their reaction to having been taken hostage. :D If you have suggestions, please don't hesitate to let me know. :) Reviews will be greatly appreciated. :3 Thank you for reading! For those who read my other story, "Run", I will be updating that in a few hours. :3


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